


you really got a hold on me

by corleones



Category: The Hour
Genre: D/s, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:41:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corleones/pseuds/corleones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most of the time, they meet in places like these; offices and classrooms. Ruth was taught that gentlemen conducted affairs discreetly and in hotel rooms but Peter, she’s come to realize, is anything but a gentleman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you really got a hold on me

Most of the time, they meet in places like these; offices and classrooms. Ruth was taught that gentlemen conducted affairs discreetly and in hotel rooms but Peter, she's come to realize, is anything but a gentleman.   
  
"This is worse than your office," she whispers, even though it is past ten and the university is empty, pulling him closer by the collar. She is perched on the edge of a desk, still in her stockings and her gloves, dress crumpled on the floor at her feet. "At least there was a sofa."  
  
He laughs, cups a hand around the back of her neck. "And here I thought you valued my company over comfort."  
  
She raises an eyebrow. "Do you value this over comfort?"  
  
Peter leans back a bit, looking surprised. "Of course."  
  
"Well, then." She places her palms on his chest and pushes lightly, "I'll be the teacher this time."  
  
"Anything you like, darling."  
  
"Madam," she says, twisting her mouth, sly and knowing. "I want you to call me, Madam."  
  
He sits down in the chair, raises up his palms and says,  _Madam_ like she asks but there is something insolent about it.  
  
"Are you mocking me?" she says, eyes narrowed. She has backed up against his desk and is resting against it, palms seeking purchase on the surface of it.   
  
"Of course not."  
  
"Of course not,  _Madam_ ."  
  
He laughs as he repeats it after her and Ruth's fingers have curled around a wooden ruler and she raps him across the knuckles with it swiftly, smiling when he snatches his hand back and winces. "Bloody hell, Ruth."  
  
"Mr. Darrell. I believe I've already asked that you refer to me as - "  
  
"Madam," he finishes, quickly. Her ruler is still raised.  
  
"Yes. Quite so. Now, I would like you to take off your tie."  
  
He complies, undoing the knot easily and smoothing it out in front of her.   
  
She walks towards him, pulling her gloves up at the elbows as she moves so that they curve more snugly around her wrist. She plays with the tie for a minute, twisting it in her hands as if she is testing it. Satisfied, she lowers it over his eyes and ties a quick knot in the back.  
  
"Peter," she purrs, mouth close to his ear, "Do you have another one of these?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"A spare tie," she snaps. "Is there one?"  
  
"In the drawer. Why?"  
  
She doesn't say word and for a minute, he hears only the noise of the drawers and the soft call of her stockings rubbing against each other, begging to be tugged off.  
  
"Hands behind your back, Peter," she instructs syrupy sweet and she ties them there, tight and firm.  
  
" _Ruth_ ."  
  
She stills behind him. "Peter," she says. "Do you need to be punished."  
  
"No - Madam."  
  
" _Good_ ."  
  
She slips into the space between the desk and the chair, crawling into his lap and his wrists strain against the tie. She's done a painfully good job, this girl, now stroking a hand down his chest, her other hand peeling away his collar to kiss his pulse point as it leaps wildly under her teeth. She teases the spot with her lips for a minute, distracting him, the top of her head brushing against his nose.   
  
The set of fingers that he has stopped keeping track of has sneaked into his trousers, undoing the front clasp and snapping them open. He makes a noise and she brings a hand to his mouth.   
  
"Do try and be quiet, darling," she sighs, stroking his cock idly, slowly and he begins to pant against her palm, already embarrassingly close.  
  
She squeezes him, speeding up and his teeth scrape at her, the sound of her laughing in the dark. He makes a helpless muffled noise when he comes.  
  
"Peter." she says, sounding shocked. "You've ruined my gloves." Her hand releases his lips.  
  
"I - I'm sorry," he manages.   
  
"This is unacceptable. I was going to have sex with you, Peter, but now I'm afraid I can't."  
  
"No?"  
  
He hears a rustle of fabric and she throws the pair of gloves in his lap, his cock still hanging out. He can hear her near his feet for a moment and realizes she is putting her dress on.  
  
"I'm going to go and get some cigarettes, Mr. Darrell," she tells him, ruffling his hair fondly. "When I come back, I expect you to be perform better."  
  
"Ruth," he all but shouts.  
  
"Now, now," she giggles, sounding like herself again for a moment. "You want top marks, don't you?"


End file.
